A Small World After All

Valentine’s Day was fun.  Sophia and I found a very nice Indian restaurant, well maybe Bangladeshi, but it was still really good.  It is called the Viceroy.  For a set price they bring a series of dishes and curries for your meal, and it was delicious.  I am not sure what most of what I ate was, but I liked it all, except this sort of pumpkin or squash concoction.  The prawns (shrimp to we Americans) were tasty and not too rubbery, which is often the case in many of the restaurants I have found.  The service was quick and precise, and it wasn’t too taxing on the wallet.  I insist that the rose they gave Sophia was of my own instruction and wasn’t just a Valentine’s special, but she doesn’t believe me.  Just because all the other women received one is hardly evidence. 

On a different note, a trip to Mumbles made Saturday more eventful than normal.  Mumbles, you may be asking, is a town west of the city of Swansea, still on the sea, and not even that far, indeed only about 3 miles.  We walked the way there, and the seaside wind was brisk and chilly.  We did not wear coats, a mistake I take full credit for.  But once we arrived, finding a restaurant and warmth was a top priority.  Settling on “La Casa Nostra” was one of the best decisions of the trip yet. 

We saw the menu in the window and the prices were very agreeable.  More so than most of the places we have seen, and it was Italian.  Anything but Fish ‘n’ Chips for a while.  A waiter popped his head out of the door to greet us, and it was all uphill from there.  We essentially had the place to ourselves.  Another family was heading out when we arrived and on our departure another arriving, and it was awesome.  The menu offered many a pasta dish, appetizers, and lots of drinks. 

I had a severe hankering for some calamari, which was satiated with a delicious platter quickly brought from the kitchen.  It was very tender and not at all over cooked.  The batter was not over-spiced either, which let the subtlety of the young squid come through.  It was also served without a sauce, which was new for me.  I liked it though. 

I asked for help from the waiter discerning what I ought order.  I was very curious about the Pasta Mediterreana, featuring prawns, squid, and mussels.  He said it was good, but it is always tricky recommending dishes, but I assured him I would place no blame on his judgment.  It was then that we learned a great fact of our waiter.  When I asked if he was from Italy, it turned out I was close, but not quite far enough east.  This fellow was born in Greece.  Sophia’s face lit up, and I immediately pointed out that she too, was of similar of heritage. 

After many sentences and exchanges that are well beyond my rudimentary understanding of the language (I can successfully name 3 parts of the human face, not to mention hello, thank-you, and you’re welcome) it was determined that Dimitri’s village was no more than 6 kilometres from Sophia’s mother’s.  Wow.  What a coincidence.  I decided this was certainly an instance of Divine intervention and this was to become my new favorite restaurant.  Thankfully, the pasta was equally amazing, and will certainly warrant our prompt return. 

Sophia couldn’t wait to call her mother and tell her the news.  This resulted in my listening in many more minutes of Greek, which may someday result in my learning the language through pure constant exposure.  I hope so.